Oh, The Things That Can Be Hooked!

 Oh, the things that can be hooked...by 3 Marilyn's, 2 Mary's, a Kim, a Pat, a Cat and a Crow....

Well, by the Crow, not so much.

I was there for the food and entertainment.

Where's "there?"

"There" is "the farm"...

a/k/a "Red Barn Rugs"...

...You know, that place just down the lane here in Nod.

More specifically, a three-day hooking workshop hosted (hostessed?) by

Cathy (proprietress and mistress of the red barn at the farm) and

attended by some very talented hookers.

I have no clue how I ended up in this group.

Talk about over-achievers.

Yikes.

Let's start with the three Marilyns...

{A hooked rendition by ("Good"*) Marilyn of her grandson, Meisha.  Hooked in threads.  Ok, not really...but a 3-cut is pretty much the same IMO.}

{("Good") Marilyn's reindeer}

{("Bad"*) Marilyn's contemporary abstract...also hooked in threads.}

{("Bad") Marilyn's punch needle and hooked combination.}

{("Other"*) Marilyn's turkeys...her original design, of course.}

{Black Squirrels...another of "Other" Marilyn's originals.}

And moving on to the Mary's (ok...a Mary and a Mary Jo...but still.)

{Mary's "Pumpkin Runner" (with (awesome) creative liberties taken).}

{Mary Jo's "Turkey Tyme" (a Red Barn Rugs pattern).}

"The Kim:"

{Kim's "The Gleaners"...another Red Barn Rugs pattern.}

And "The Pat:"

{Pat's "Flower Power" red truck.}

And the Cat and the Crow?

Well, that amazing "Barn Owl" in the first photo is Cat's and her original Red Barn Rug design.

The Crow?

The Crow got nothing accomplished.

Like I said, I was there for the food and the entertainment....

Whether to partake of the entertainment or provide it is something I am still trying to figure out.  🤔

(*The "good," "bad," and "other" descriptors for the 3 Marilyn's was NOT my doing...they were designated as such long before I came into their lair.  But, they fit...oh, they fit.)

The Blackbird's Visit

Winter has reclaimed Nod as its own...ensconcing it in ice and snow...and endless whiteness. 

I think Nod has always belonged to Winter.

Winter is a taker.

It steals the light from our days, the warmth from our nights, the color from our world.

And this year it also took my beloved mum.

It's been a year of loss for me and Winter has nothing to offer in exchange.

The week before Christmas was spent planning a funeral and the one after, licking already-raw wounds.

No one knew me like my mother...no one ever believed in me like she did...and no one ever loved me like she did.

Of all my siblings, I caused her the most grief and worry.  And while I was perhaps more "independent" than my other siblings, I think, in many ways, I needed her more than the others did.

{Letters I wrote to my mom from Spain that I never knew she saved....}

It should not have surprised me, therefore, when the blackbird came.

I do not believe in coincidences and I do believe our souls live on, yet I was not expecting a message nor a messenger - particularly such an unusual one.

Yet here she was...perched precariously on a mound of snow directly outside my back patio doors while my kitties watched.  In fact, it was the cats' prolonged attention that drew my attention and as I approached the door to look more closely, the blackbird cocked her little head to the side and looked directly at me.

Had it been the proverbial red cardinal that is commonly regarded as heavenly messengers of departed loved ones, I may have made a more immediate connection. Then, again, perhaps not as cardinals are regular visitors here.

But the mysterious blackbird and her unassuming stillness caught me unawares. 

Although blackbirds have not been viewed particularly favorably by Christianity and Judaism, in other cultures (e.g., Egyptian and Japanese), the blackbird is seen as a symbol of the cycle of life and represents rebirth and regeneration.

(On rare occasion, my background in Egyptology has served me well.)

In the spirtual realm, blackbirds are viewed as symbols of transition and transformation, balancing darkness and light.  One can call upon the blackbird when they need spiritual guidance and the blackbird can remind us to use our senses and inner wisdom to understand and adapt to the different aspects of life.  They may appear to prepare us for changes so that we may adapt to those changes and allow us to find happiness in them.  And the blackbird can warn us of the dangers of our past entrapping us.

The blackbird stayed on her mound of snow for a considerable amount of time and only the cats know how long she had been there before I noticed her.

She was not ruffled by kitties, and patiently waited as the unusualness of event slowly sunk in and while I got my glasses and phone and took her photo.

And still she stayed.

Fearing she may be injured, I finally opened the double doors to go out.

Only then did she lift her wings and flit away into the whiteness.

Of course my mother would not choose an ostentatious or common cardinal.

She knew me well.

I love you the most....the end.

xoxo